


Passion Put to Use

by Dilettantism



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: F/M, Kataang Week 2020, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28473330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dilettantism/pseuds/Dilettantism
Summary: Katara surprises Aang. Post-series, only partly comic-compliant. Ignores LOK.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 30





	Passion Put to Use

Carefully the girl copies the last information she needs from the fragile scroll. Rising from the long table tucked into a secluded nook of the Ba Sing Se University Library, she deftly rolls the manuscript as she quickly crosses the quiet room. With a slight bow she returns the document to the elderly librarian sitting behind an imposingly ornate stone desk.

“Not many people have an interest in this subject matter any more,” the man comments, clearly bursting with curiosity as to why the young woman desires such obscure and antiquated volumes. Even in forward-thinking Ba Sing Se scholars of esoteric knowledge aren't often female.

The girl merely murmurs a noncommittal syllable that could be interpreted as agreement if one were feeling agreeable, or as disagreement if one weren't so inclined. With a second bow she turns and walks away.

Li Bao holds the returned scroll loosely in a hand that is age-spotted but still strong and well-manicured. He watches the mysterious figure depart. Though his interests don't tend in that direction and wouldn't even if he were a half century younger, the girl is undeniably lovely. Large eyes of an unusual blue contrast sharply with her dark complexion. She is tall, slim, and graceful. And completely inscrutable. Every few weeks she shows up and reads for hours, inevitably requesting books and scrolls that have lain untouched for decades. She speaks only when she wishes to request another tome and ignores the male appreciation she attracts from undergrads (and not a few faculty members).

Careful observation of library visitors over many years has made Bao an astute judge. He knows deep in his gut which patrons are likely to excise information they find objectionable, which will giggle over illustrated lovemaking manuals, and which smuggle in forbidden foodstuffs that will leave blots and crumbs. He makes a game of guessing into which category each new visitor falls as he encounters them. And, of course, he intervenes when necessary. 

Yet he can never decide where this girl fits. Her schedule is too erratic for a serious student, yet she has the manner of one. When approached by boys and men wishing to become better acquainted, she responds with icy silence. Yet he's seen her silently weeping over some of the volumes he retrieves for her. Other times her eyes clearly communicate a rage so deep it stops his breath. She's not as coldly indifferent as she often appears. These emotional responses seem at odds with her scholarly mien.

The girl's apathy over the copious male attention she receives first led Bao to guess that her interests also lay in her own sex or perhaps in none at all, but then he encountered her on the street in the Upper Ring with a young man. 

Her cool demeanor was nowhere to be seen as she beamed and laughed up at him, cheeks rosy with joy and attraction, her hand entwined with her lover's. She pulled the boy into a recessed doorway and kissed him like she couldn't survive another moment without his touch. Despite his age and experience, Bao blushed at such naked longing. Though he couldn't see much of the boy because of a large-brimmed hat covering his head and shading his eyes, every line of the young man's body declared his ardent return of the girl's interest. Bao had smiled widely, pleased that the too-grave-for-her-age young woman was not always serious or sad.

Bao's musing is interrupted by the adjunct professor of bending theory, Chan Meili, as she slides a material request across the desk under his nose. Rather than immediately engaging Bao in rueful speculation over the library's other patrons as is her wont, Meili also stares after the departing figure of the girl.

“Wow,” Meili sighs, “I've never seen Master Katara up close before. Does she come here often?”

Bao starts. “Master Katara? She's a bending master? At that age?'

Meili is shocked. “Please don't tell me you've never heard of Master Katara!”

“Til this moment I didn't even know her name.”

Meili chuckles, “You need to get out more, Bao! Master Katara helped save the world by defeating that crazy Fire Nation princess. And she's the Avatar's girlfriend.” Meili drops her voice to a suggestive whisper, “They're said to be quite disgustingly in love.”

Oh. Oh! 

Suddenly the puzzle pieces constituting the girl slide into place. He feels a bit like crying himself as he realizes the reason for her intense reactions to reading about the long-gone Air Nomads. 

• • • •

Katara hurries out of the library, tucking her notes into a large satchel slung over her shoulder. Glee suffuses her being as she finally drops her serious student facade and nearly dances along the street, plans percolating in her brain.

Three brief shopping stops later she's headed back to the Upper-Ring house that King Kuei formally gifted to Aang two years ago when Aang reached legal adulthood according to the customs of the Earth Kingdom. Katara made it her official residence after she accepted the lead healer position at the Ba Sing Se Healing Center shortly thereafter. Toph, Sokka, and Suki all maintain rooms in the house for their frequent visits to the city. Though Zuko and Mai often visit as well, political expedience keeps them closer to the palace when they stay in Ba Sing Se.

But today the house would only hold Aang and her. And she has big plans for the night to come.

Katara stashes her satchel under her writing desk after removing a few of her pages of notes and sketches. From a lower drawer she pulls a basket containing skeins of fine wool thread, beads, and a tiny steel hook. Looking down at her sketches, she carefully uses the hook to draw together strands into small loops that she then works into a complicated pattern. Occasionally she threads a tiny bead onto the tip of the hook and works it into the arrangement. Half an hour later she finishes. Her project is complete, threads snipped and loose ends sewn down. Katara tucks it into her pocket with a grin and stows her supplies back in the drawer.

Katara carries the notes and sketches into the kitchen. Checking the time-keeping candle, she notes that it's just past 3 o'candle. Before Aang left that morning he promised to return by 6 o'candle. She has never attempted any of the dishes planned for tonight’s meal, so she figures it's best to get started cooking early.

• • • •

Aang is immediately surrounded by delicious aromas when he opens the front door of his house. Wonderingly, he stops in the doorway. Memories from his childhood fill his mind. 

Gyatso ladles soup into his bowl. A crowd of air nomads enjoys a picnic on a grassy plain, kites blazing brilliant color above. Novitiates race through a courtyard on air scooters. Scores of air bison circle above his head. All with the same background scents he now experiences.

Katara hears Aang come in, but then there's silence. Confused, she heads toward the door. Aang is standing just inside, one hand still resting on the knob. He looks transfixed but his gaze is unfocused. 

“Sweetie?” Katara asks.

With a small shake of his head, Aang smiles and pulls Katara into his arms. He drops a kiss onto the tip of her nose. Katara winds her arms around his shoulders and presses her lips to the edge of his jaw. Aang hums contentedly. They press together more closely and rest quietly in the embrace for a moment.

Aang breaks the silence “It smells wonderful in here!” he enthuses, “no sea prunes tonight?”

Katara slaps his shoulder lightly and laughs. “No sea prunes. Why don't you wash up and then you can see what we do have.”

While Aang washes away the dust and concerns of a day spent coaxing recalcitrant politicians into listening to each other, Katara arranges the food she prepared on their low table. She sits on a floor cushion and waits apprehensively, twisting her fingers together until she notices she's doing so. She grips the edge of the table instead, nerves rising.

Aang stands in the doorway behind Katara, a stunned look on his face. 

“Katara, you made all this?” he whispers.

Katara starts at his words, then babbles nervously. “Oh, you're here! Of course you're here. I just didn't hear you come in. Because you were behind me, obviously. And you're really light on your feet, you know. Toph may be onto something, calling you Twinkletoes. Do you think--”

Aang curtails the babbling by lifting her to her feet and capturing her lips with his own. His arms wind around her waist. Katara arches into him, one hand rising to his face, caressing his cheek as the kiss deepens. Abruptly, she pulls her face away, breathing with evident difficulty. He leans his forehead against hers, also breathing heavily.

“Aang! Stop! If you keep kissing me, we may not eat until everything is as cold as the laping.”

“I can't believe you made laping! And butter tea and cabbage momos and sepen! All my childhood favorites. Everything looks and smells like I remember. How did you do this?” Aang asks with a wondering shake of his head.

Katara grins at him. “Did you know that Ba Sing Se University has the largest collection of scrolls and books about Air Nomads outside of Wan Shih Tong's library? Their undergraduate library is open to the public and I've been visiting for the past year, trying to learn more about your culture.”

“But why, Katara? Are you still” Aang pauses as he considers the most politic way to express his thoughts, “...um...worried about my relationship with the Air Acolytes? Please don't be. I am flattered and pleased that other people want to learn about my people, but my affection for the Acolytes is purely friendly. There is no one I love and admire more than you. You don't need to know or be anything else. You impress me all on your own, sifu Katara.”

Katara blushes, slightly, as ever a bit undone when he addresses her so.

“No, it's not about the Air Acolytes at all. Or maybe they inspired me some.” She hesitates, unsure how to convey all her reasons. “You're the best person I know, so honorable and brave and kind. I wanted to know more about how you became you. I needed to know your people. To know mine, you can visit Gran Gran and listen to her stories. You can sit in her home and eat her food. I can't talk to Gyatso or break bread with him, so I've been reading everything I can to learn and understand.”

She gazes steadily into his eyes and reveals her deepest reason “And I wanted to make you happy. I know you love being an Air Nomad, love your people and traditions and food and history. So I tried to give you a bit more of your culture, here in our home.”

The words 'our home' bring wide smiles to both their faces. After all they've endured, sharing a home and a life delights them.

Aang steps back and motions her toward the table. “Thank you, Katara,” he whispers.

They seat themselves and once again Aang is overcome with what she has accomplished. “I don't know how to make any of these things, except butter tea. Are there actually scrolls at Ba Sing Se University that tell you how to make Air Nomad food?”

“There are, and much more, too. Of course, I didn't know exactly what everything is supposed to taste like, so it was hard to know which recipes to use. A lot of the time, I couldn't even tell which information was true and which was misunderstood or even completely wrong. Can you believe I found one manuscript that said it was common for an Air Nomad marriage to include a woman and several men?” Katara's expression is both scandalized and amused.

“Oh, that one is true.” Aang replies as he tastes a momo with some sepen.

Katara's mouth hangs open, “You're joking. Right? You are joking, aren't you?”

“No. Marriage is sacred. I would never joke about something sacred. Mmm, this is wonderful! The sepen adds the perfect amount of spice.”

Katara continues to stare, too shocked to speak.

Aang notices her consternation. “Not always one woman and several men, though. Sometimes one man and several women.”

At this, Katara's astonishment gathers a bit of ire. “I hope you realize that I am a two people in a relationship and that's it kind of girl!”

“Well, that was how things worked out in most instances--a man and a woman, or two women, or two men. But as long as there is love shared between everyone, what goes on inside a marriage is no matter of concern for anyone outside the union, right?” 

Katara's lips tighten and Aang realizes that this line of talk is not endearing himself to his love. He decides that more eating and less talking will likely result in a much friendlier girlfriend and a warmer bed.

Aang's fervent appreciation of the meal thaws Katara's disapproval and their talk shifts to comparing various culinary traditions as they continue the meal.

By the time they've finished eating, both are smiling, once again in perfect amity. Aang thanks Katara profusely for the meal.

As Aang begins to rise Katara realizes the time has come for her final objective. Wiping sweat from her palms onto her tunic, she scoots closer to Aang and reaches for his hands. Hers tremble slightly as she wraps her fingers around his.

She looks into his smiling gray eyes and suddenly everything feels a bit easier.

“Aang, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life by your side. I want the whole world to know that you are mine and I am yours.” She reaches into her side pocket and pulls out the woven ring she crafted according to the patterns and designs she found in the library. “Will you marry me, Aang?” she asks as she holds the ring out to him.

This is right. This is how the next step must go. Aang has always been ahead of her, knowing his own heart before she knew hers and offering it up without reservation. She needs him to know that her love for him is just as deep and all-consuming as his for her, that she holds nothing back from him.

And now Aang's hands are the ones that tremble. He finds he cannot speak around some mysterious obstacle that has materialized in his throat. Lacking the power of speech, he takes the ring and places it on his left thumb. The left hand is closer to the heart, the seat of love. And the thumb is closer to the heart than the other digits, so that's where Air Nomads place the sign of their love. He knows without asking that she made the ring herself. Who but Katara would use all the colors of water accented with shining beads like chips of ice to make a betrothal ring for an airbender?

He realizes he has been staring at her ring on his finger for quite a while when she speaks.

“Aang? Aang, sweetie? You're making me worry a bit. Is that a yes?”

He rises and draws her to her feet as well. “Of course it's yes!”

Then she's being lifted off her feet and spun around the room to the sound of his laughter. She rests her head against his shoulder and silently promises to make him laugh every day for the rest of forever.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the very first piece of fiction I ever wrote, excepting a Robin Hood essay/story I wrote for my freshman composition class in undergrad, which was a short story told from Maid Marian's perspective. Huh, you know what? I guess that was fanfic, too, before I ever heard of fanfic. Title, of course, comes from Elizabeth Barrett Browning's incomparable Sonnet 43.
> 
> I have also posted this story on FF and Tumblr, and wrote it for Kataang Week 2020.


End file.
